Page 4 of A Tempting Motion
Theo’s gaze turns contemplative. “That’s… great advice. Thanks.” He emerges from his hiding place. “Well, I should be getting back to the office. Britta and I are finished for now, right Britta?”
Both men watch me curiously, as they wait for my response. “Yes!” I blurt out, totally natural. “If you need anything, feel free to email me.”
Theo laughs. “Email isn’t enough anymore, I’m afraid. This case is far from over. We’ll see each other again, soon.” Theo winks at me and thank God Marco is behind him. “Good meeting you, Marco.” Theo finally leaves and I can breathe again.
“Nice guy.” Marco points out the door with his thumb. “So, he’s on the Donahue case? How’s that going?”
I nod to shake off my nerves and focus on the conversation with my team lead. “Good, thanks. Judge Powell ruled in our favor today. Chamberlain’s being an ass, trying to get the case dismissed by insisting I’m hiding evidence. He claims the strip club should have security video absolving his client.”
Marco’s eyebrow raises. “And you gave him the whole file?”
I lift the encyclopedia-sized file from my desk and toss it back with a thump. “Yep. Every damn thing I have, he has. He’s just being a pain. The officers on the case were thorough. Burgess would never—”
“Investigator Burgess is lead on the case?”
I pause at Marco’s sharp tone. “Yes?” I draw out the word. “Why? What’s up?”
Marco checks the hall before softly closing my office door. The effect is not nearly as stifling as when Theo was here, but the sudden rigidity behind Marco’s every move makes my nerves vibrate from the alarm bells ringing in my head.
“This happened behind Original Sin?” At my nod, his low voice continues. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Original Sin’s security videos are the best I’ve ever seen. Chamberlain might be right.”
“But…” I begin, confused by what he’s implying. “Why wouldn’t the police include those videos in the file? In fact…” I riffle through the hundreds of pages and tabs I’ve made and pull out what I need. “Here. See? Investigator Burgess says he checked with Original Sin and they didn’t have any videos.”
Marco reads over the one line supplemental report before returning it to the file, his mouth a grim line.
“Come on.” I laugh. “You can’t seriously believe Chamberlain. We’re gonna take the word of adefenselawyer? They’re paid to spin lies.”
“Most of the time they’re in it for justice, too, Britta.” Marco shakes his head, but the sting of his rebuke is forgotten when he speaks again. “Let’s just say, the sheriff’s office isn’t what it used to be.” His eyes hint there’s more, and his voice cuts through the tension in the air, slicing at my confidence.
He turns to leave, but pauses at the door and scans the hallway. He gives me another weighted stare before he goes.
“Check again.”
Chapter Three
Theo
My tongue laves at the bite mark on the inside of my lip as I reminisce over my verbal sparring with Britta. I reach to restart the shiny pendulum on my desk and her scratches burn across my back. I’ll miss these little mementos of our weekend together when they finally heal. But Britta’s razor-sharp mind will stay with me long after they’re gone. My girl’s got claws in and out of the bedroom.
My girl.
Fuck me.
I return my thoughts to the mesmerizingclick-clackof the metal spheres. Hopefully, the clash of steel on steel will drown out the insanity flooding my mind.
I shouldn’t be thinking of Britta as ‘my’ anything but a pain in my ass. I had no idea she and Assistant District Attorney Bridgette Thoms were the same person. I should’ve figured it out, but when I was tongue deep in Britta’s sweetness, details like names and occupations weren’t high priorities.
In the past, the less I knew about my hookups, the better. If I had an itch, I scratched it. I save passion for the goals I’ve set in my career, not the relationships that could derail them.
But when Britta snuck out early Monday morning, leaving me with only her nickname and smoldering memories, I realized the dim fire of a one-night stand wasn’t enough this time. My new firm has been all-consuming, but Britta drew me into her flame when I least expected it. Now I’m trapped in the most delicious burn, and I’m surprised to find I hope it never fades.
Unfortunately, Britta made it clear she doesn’t trust me and believes I was trying to screw her over when I—well—screwed her. I thought we’d cleared that up, but she hasn’t answered any of my emails, calls, or texts since I saw her forty-eight hours ago. I might not be on her mind, but she’s become my obsession, and it’s driving me fucking crazy.
What’s worse is our lack of communication is interfering with what’s actually important—the case.
I met with my client after Monday’s hearing to try to convince her to talk about the night of the murder. The dancers at Original Sin say she left work in a hurry, arguing with someone over the phone. An hour later, an anonymous 911 call reported shots fired behind the club. Officers found Serena crying on the ground clutching the smoking gun, her ex-boyfriend’s dead body feet away from her. When police asked her what happened, she went quiet. Now they’re using her silence against her and claiming admission by omission, that because she never denied it, she’s admitting to murder.
Sounds like an open and shut case. But my gut says something’s up. By all accounts, Serena and her ex had broken up months before, and remained friends. That alone, plus her silence, makes me worry there’s more going on. Maybe there’s something she’s afraid of more than losing her freedom and I’ll be damned if I let a scared, innocent woman spend her life in a cage for a crime she didn’t commit.
